It’s funny how everything ties together.
Sunday night, my partner spent the night in Palm Springs for a friend’s birthday. It was the first night we have slept apart in well over a year.
I lived life on Sunday, taking an 8-mile walk of contrasts through Central Los Angeles. I had fun. But I missed her. It would have been better with Melisse.
This week, I’m spending three nights in San Francisco to visit my daughter. As much as I look forward to seeing her, even ahead of and now at the start of the trip I’m getting these same feelings of missing my partner. Here again, I’ll have fun and enjoy my time with my kid and seeing San Francisco (I’ll report back on the experience), but I’ll miss Melisse.
You can summarize this by saying—She is my home.
Some people revel in their partner going out of town for a few days—or vice versa. For me, it’s the opposite.
I enjoyed the comments section of this article about being a digital nomad (or not) and having a home (or not).
However, my presentation and a couple of the comments confound distinct meanings of home.
An important distinction, particularly if you’re considering a move away from where you currently live. Which might or might not be home to you. Even more important, if you’re doing or already did it.